Precious things
by toby cavanaughty
Summary: Being tormented by A might be old news for the liars, but for their daughters, the nightmares are only just starting up. The girls quickly learn that under pressure, precious things break. And the pieces cut deeper than knives.
1. stArting the secrets

_Hello there!_

_I've had this idea knocking around for ages. I know that next gens are kind of cliche, but I just adore them. I've been debating writing one for a while, but I wasn't sure where I'd go with it and never seemed motivated. But yesterday I just sat down and started writing, and the words flowed way too easily for me not to post. I'm really happy with the characters, and I can't wait for you to get to know them better. Sadly, you'll have to it for the next chapter to meet some of them properly, but I'm very excited to write it._

_Please, please, please do leave a review. I'd love to get some feedback, so that I can decide if I should continue this! Thanks, and I hope you enjoy..._

* * *

"I don't think I can do this."

Four girls stood at the entrance to the graveyard. Old bricks, the smell of dust, and cobwebs surrounded them. One of the younger girls was clenching her fists, feet rooted to the ground as her body shook. Her pale brown skin appeared a deep blue in the night, with patches of shadows casting across her exposed back. Visible goosebumps littered her complexion, and she shivered more than any of the other girls.

"Yes you can, Hazel. You know we're so close to finding her."

Lola reached down to grab her hand and navigate into the rubble, trying hard to ignore the creaks of rust scuffing against the ground as they walked through the gates. Mist clouded the air as they continued to step across the dirty ruins of headstones. Hazel was growing more and more anxious by the second.

"I just." She paused, releasing the hand gripping hers so she could wrap her arms around herself. "I don't know. I mean...- I'm really scared. How are you guys not more scared."

The girls all stopped for a moment. A high pitched wind was whistling ominously in the air; the whole atmosphere was completely terrifying.

"Oh, I'm not scared." Darlene spoke, her brown eyes gleaming as her torchlight reflected on them. "I'm just angry."

She closed her eyes briefly, and thought about all that had happened in the past months. How the happy, carefree lives they had all known were dead and gone. So quickly and so irreversibly, they had _all _become victims. And a large part of all of their lives was done with. Forever.

She was never getting that life back. She was never getting a feeling of solidarity, and safety back in her life. That had been taken from all of them. A lot of things had been taken away from all them. Not forgetting that more than one occasion, they had nearly died.

So much had changed, and so much was at stake. She felt like she had _lost _so much, had some of the things she cared about the most snatched from was almost laughable. Even _that _had been taken from her. Feeling cheated. She wasn't allowed to do that anymore. How could she possibly complain about being unlucky when somebody real had been _snatched_.

"I am so, _so _angry."

Two fell from the crumbling remains of one of the walls, one nearly hitting Sofia on the head as she passed. Strong arms yanked her out of the way, and she watched the brick clatter onto the floor, smashing into a pile of rocks on the tombstone bellow. She breathed out, trying not to think about how easily that could have been her head. She sunk into the arms of Darlene, who had dropped the torch in order to hold her arms around Sofia's shoulders.

"Okay. Are you still sure you're not scared." She whispered, breaths shallow and jittery. Darlene could feel her friend's pulse speeding up, and suddenly became very conscious of how physically tiny she was. The muscles in her arms flexed, and she tightened the, around her friend and kept walking, mouthing to Lola to pick the flashlight up.

"No. And I _promise. _We all promised that we are going to find her." "Yeah, and what if we find her body." Lola asked, bluntly.

"_Lola_." Darlene warned, tension evident in her hiss. Lola simply shrugged, feeling a chill from the air wrap around her as she did so.

"What. We might. I'm not trying to freak us out, but we have to be prepared that we might find her dead."

They kept walking. Nobody had anything to say to that. Apart from the trudging of heels against the ground, silence cloaked them.

Because they hated it.

They didn't have a secret, some way to lie themselves out of this one. Even the best liar in the world couldn't undo a murder.

Lola was right. There was a very real chance that they might be explaining to the police- and their parents- why they had found the corpse of Rosewood's high profile missing person.

What was worse than that, worse than it all, was that they'd also have to face the fact that they would never see her smile again.

"We're not going to let that happen." Hazel reminded. She was still trembling, but her voice was stronger, now. She held her torch in front of her, clutching it firmly to stop her shaking hands. She stepped forward, not looking back at her friends anymore. She knew that she had to do this. It wasn't a matter of whether or not she thought she could.

"You're right." Lola spoke quietly. Everything was quieter now. Something about the quiet made the night seem even more intense. The girls formed a line, eyes falling upon the place they were looking for. Darlene chewed her nail. She looked forward, chin up and

shoulders back. Voice more determined than it had ever been. She remembered the day it all started.

And god, wished that day never happened.

She swallowed. Her right hand slipped between the silk folds of her dress and drew the gun from the pocket, where all the girls knew she had it. Her dress felt a little lighter, but her heart felt somewhat heavier as she slid her finger over the trigger. Whoever their tormentor turned out to be, if it was necessary, she would pull it.

She'd pull it to protect any one of these girls.

The metal was cold, but it made her feel powerful. For the first time in too long, they had some of the control.

"This ends tonight."

* * *

five months earlier

* * *

Darlene Cavanaugh had been standing outside classroom 7b for about 10 minutes by the time her friend decided to emerge. Or perhaps 15. She didn't know, since the clock was situated at the back of the classroom, pinned to the oak beams so that the teachers would be immediately aware of anybody turning around to check. Which was often, since 7b was home to specialised geography: something that sounds academic on collage applications, but in reality includes long hours of staring at the back of a balding teacher whilst you draw lines on a map.

Shuddering at the thought of Mr. Ratwill's receding combover, she tucked a loose strand from her bun behind her ear. She leant her head into the side of the wall, letting the door handle press into the tender part of her palm as she shut her eyes for a second, hoping that wouldn't have to wait much longer.

Lola was late. Again.

It took her another 5 minutes to finally emerge from the classroom, a pile of papers and an irritated expression in tow. Half Lola's hair was clipped back into a French twist, whilst the rest flowed down her back and over her shoulders, perfectly complimenting the white lace top she was wearing.

"I really hate you." She declared, dumping the papers her tutor had given her into the bin with decided flourish,

"Why?"

"You know exactly why." She sighed dramatically. "According to Mr. Ratwill, _I'm _on my way to after school extra credit German History club."

Darlene shrugged nonchalantly, causing Lola's blue eyes to widen. "Extra_. _Credit_. German History club. _Does that sound like something that anyone is going to be thrilled about?"

"But you said you wanted to last week." She justified, crossing her arms over her green blazer, causing the collar to wrinkle slightly.

Lola groaned. "Of course I _said _that. Because creepy Paul Evens keeps asking me out to his Dad's diner, you know, that one that nearly got closed for hygiene reasons?" Her friend shook her head in disgust, "You _do _know, you said it looked like food poisoning central...- anyway, Creepy Paul was buzzing towards me like a bee to jam... and there was no way in hell that I-"

"It's bee to honey." Darlene muttered quietly. "What?"

"Honey." she untucked her hair from her ear and twirled it round her finger. "Bees make honey, not jam."

"I don't give a crap if they poop Vegemite, I am _not _spending my Fridays at German History nerd squad with you, Darl. Lola Rivers and Extra Credit do not go in the same sentence."

Darlene raised her eyebrows.

"Please don't talk about yourself in third person."

"Why the hell do I need third person? I'm one person, and I'm not going to Mystery History with you." Lola nodded smartly, producing a lipstick out of nowhere. Printed down the side of the tube read Caribbean Kisses. It was a peachy, glittery colour that Lola normally reserved for garden parties.

Darlene knew she was about to give in on the History Club; it was probably a good, because she was leaps ahead of Lola at World History, and wouldn't benefit much from having her as a study partner. But there's a guy she's been trying to introduce to Lola for _months _at German History club. And this might just be the only chance she'll have to get them talking if Lola gets invited to anything else this year.

"Please?"

"No. You made me take History anyway, and we all know how great I used to be at the fine German language. Ich habben not coming."

Darlene reached towards her locker and entered the combination. "I don't know what that was, but it was not German."

"Good. You'll see that I'm not the girl to study buddy with."

She smiled sweetly as Darlene opened up her locker door to check her reflection in the blue mirror placed there. She paused to glance at the many photos surrounding it, most of them featuring Lola.

One was at a sleepover, strawberry face masks getting all over her immaculate bedspread, whilst another saw the two of them getting ready for their first formal dance, both grinning and using their neatly curled hair to create moustaches.

As cliche as it might have been...- Darlene could barley remember a time when she didn't know Lola. Almost every memory had Lola in it. She hadn't known anybody else who could make her laugh the way Lola did, or anybody else being nearly as fun to be around.

Their parents had both had babies at the same time, and being best friends themselves, ended up doing pretty much everything together for the first two years of their lives.

And by that point, the two of them refused to be without the other.

"So. _Definitely _no German history, then?"

Lola glanced up from her nails, curls falling over her shoulder as she tilted her head.

"What? History? Darl, keep up, we're on Tyler Peaks. He asked me out last week but I don't know for sure if he likes me since he's still texting Yasmin Draper."

This elicited a low chuckle from her. Another guy liking Lola. Half the school was in love with her, but few of them knew her well, which was a pity. However, Darlene was hoping she might be able to change that with the guy she was going to set her up with.

Henry was gorgeous, but not in a 'hunk' kind of way. He was smart, intelligent, and looking for somebody nice and funny. She knew he'd love Lola's sense of humour, if only she could drag her along to a session.

She started sifting through her locker in search of her '_Walsh: First World War_' text book.

"Of course he likes you, Loley. You're the prettiest girl in this dump of a school." Lola opened her mouth to protest, but was interrupted before she could finish her breath. "You look like Tinker-bell and Cinderella would, if they had a baby made out of love and unicorn wishes. You're kind and you talk to everyone... although some of them turn out to be creeps who try to take pictures up your skirt. And by the way, I love your new one." She gestured with her hand to the silver skater skirt her friend was wearing.

"Thankyou, sweetie. And for the record," she shut the locker and linked her arm with her friend. "I do not look like Tinkerella."

"Yes. You do." "Ugh, you exaggerate freaking everything. Actually, _no_. You use hyperbole." Darlene grinned and nodded in appreciation of the literary technique. "Mmm." "Yeah. Who's going to ace the midterms next week now?" "Not you, since our midterms aren't for ages." Lola's face crumpled, stopping on their way to the study group. "_I _revised _for that."_

"I'm so sorry for your loss." Darlene patted her shoulder, laughing as Lola angrily brushed it off.

"_Oh_." A smug grin replaced her frown, all resentment forgotten. "There he is. Mr. Darlene, hurrying off on his way to academic success. Look at those calves working, Darl. Are you salivating yet?"

"Shut your face." She mumbled under her breath, waving to her boyfriend Austin as he passed. He looked at her for a moment and started to walk over, smiling. His fringe brushed his eyes as his head bobbed, obscuring the green for a brief second. Then, as he began to greet Darlene, he noticed Lola. He turned back around and left with an awkward expression to the ground.

"Is he afraid of me?" Lola smacked her lips.

Darlene gritted her teeth and played with her textbook, picking at the library stamp that was peeling away at the edge "No." She bit back. Completely lying.

Austin simply didn't like Lola.

She had no idea why he seemed to hate her best friend so much, but he did. She'd been dating Austin for 3 years now, and he hadn't ever hit it off with Lola. Maybe he was intimidated by her; her bubbly personality and status in the school frightened quite a few people. But Austin wasn't unpopular by any standards, so it didn't make much sense that they didn't get on.

"Then why does he scramble past every time I smile at him? And don't you tell me he just really wants to get to lessons. Nobody _runs _to advanced physics."

"It's further math."

"It's further away from normal. Believe me you are definitely wearing the trousers in this relationship, although I would _love _to see how he rolls when the time comes to take trousers _off_..." Her eyebrows waggled, and she licked her lips mischievously.

"Lola!"

"What? Don't you worry, I bet he'll turn into Austin Powers, lasting for _hours_."

"Lola, I will kill you in your sleep."

"Yeah," she snorted, "and we all know why you're awake and raring to go in the night whilst I'm tucked up in bed."

A smirk threatened to creep over her lips, so she stopped it in it's tracks. "Enough."

Lola held up her hands, causing an array of bangles to jingle. The two girls started to ascend the staircase together, which was now completely deserted. The perks of attending anything after school hours included not being mercilessly crushed was entire student body attempted to funnel up the stairs at the exact same time.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you, Darl, I just-"

"No. It's fine, really." She smiled, a little falsely, looking down at her suede brogues. She bit down on her lip. "If you must know, I'm not sure if Austin and I aren't going to be lasting much longer at all."

Lola nearly spat out the gum she was chewing. "What!" Darlene swallowed. "Why? Did he cheat on you? Because if he did I swear I will beat him to pulp."

"What? No. No, Austin isn't cheating. He's loyal as ever. Loyal, smart, sporty, kind..."

"Yeah, plus hot and completely obsessed with you. Remind me why you want to break up with him?"

"I'm not breaking up with him! I mean... I don't know if I'm breaking up with him."

Lola looked confused, and Darlene sighed. She was moving around anxiously in the deserted corridor, scratching the back of her knee with her shoe.

"He's perfect, Lola. I just, I don't feel anything when we're together and... I don't know. I don't expect my life to be a teen novel, but I think there should be some passion, right?"

She breathed in. "Am I just being selfish?"

"Maybe a little bit. He loves you a lot, Darlene. I wouldn't just let that go."

"And I'm not. I'm just- I'm thinking. I'm weighing up options. We're seniors. Next year, we'll be going to college, and it probably won't be the same one. Maybe it's better to just break it off."

"It's your call, hun. I'll be there, but make sure you're sure before you do anything. There's no backspace buttons in relationships."

Some dark haired girl with a low side ponytail walked past, yanking the sleeves of her baggy cream sweater down over her hands, keeping her head low as she passed the two girls.

"Do you know her?" Darlene's eyes widened. "Crap, do you think she heard us talking? I swear, if she tells anyone."

"No, I don't know her, and don't worry. She had earphones in, you're fine."

"Look, you can't tell anyone, Lola."

"I'm not going to."

"I'm really serious. I don't want to mess him around, you can't tell anybody."

"And I won't. Stop worrying, go do some good in your study group... If you haven't missed the whole thing by now."

Darlene untucked the textbook from her arm and checked her satchel for her folders. The corridor was definitely empty, but she still couldn't help herself worrying. It hadn't occurred

to her that telling Lola that secret opened up the possibility of somebody finding out. And she _could not deal _with Austin finding out.

Doubts buzzed around her, each one contemplating what would happen if she really did break things off with Austin. He was such a steady, dependable part of her life. He had always been there, ever since they got together years ago. There hasn't been any angst or breaking up. He'd simply asked her out, and told her she was beautiful. She remembered being more flattered than she'd ever been, and having to stop herself from squawking as she said yes. Her pale beige dress and red cardigan became her favourite garments for months after. In fact, they still made her smile like an idiot.

He didn't, though. She had always liked being able to say that she had a boyfriend. Surely she'd miss that.

But she shouldn't just be with him because she was used to it. Change was scary, and she wasn't sure if it was something she was going to do or not. She just didn't know, and she hated not knowing. She always had the answers to everything: from math problems to whether or not Lola's necklace was too trendy. She hated not knowing where this was going to end up. And she really hated the idea of Austin getting hurt.

"I've gotta go. Just, don't mention this to anyone. We never talked about it, 'kay."

"M'kay. Love you Darl."

Darlene hugged her folders close to her body so that she was able to rest her chin on the top of one of the ringbinders. She swayed a little, glancing up to check one of the corridor clocks so that she could see if it was worth going to study group. There'd be an hour and a half left, and she decided it was worth it. Besides, essays were easier than thinking about her relationship.

"Yeah. Love you too."

She watched Lola walk away, observing the bounce in her step and the bounce her hair. There was a silver butterfly grip in the back, one she hadn't noticed before.

She couldn't help wishing it was that easy to say 'I love you' to Austin.

* * *

"So to summarise, what do _you _think was the main cause of hyper-inflation, and do you think that the initial steps put in place to halt it could have been effective. Discuss. This could be worth 12 marks in your exam."

Darlene looked up from the notes she was avidly writing. Her handwriting was almost a scrawl by the end of the fifth page, blue ink smudging against the white paper in blots and scribbles. She wiped her brow and turned to face the person behind her, quickly thinking up her vantage point on the question.

She pushed back her seat and swivelled round, smiling upon seeing her partner. "Henry! I didn't even know I was in front of you."

"Yeah, well I did. Your head's been bobbing up and down like a yoyo the last half hour, Darl. How do you even have space in that book of yours for all those notes."

She smirked. "Oh, y'know. My writing is quite small. So, what's your point of view."

"I think it's all down to the French. If they didn't invade the Ruhr, none of this would ever have happened. Obvious answer, easy marks. No invasion, the Germans wouldn't have had loss of industry and wouldn't have printed paper money for the strikers."

"Um, are you serious? Please say you aren't actually serious." "I'm deadly serious."

"You're siding with the Germans? The French only invaded because they weren't getting what they were owed in retributions. Germany signed the treaty, they have to pay what was owed."

"And the French were the ones who made the terms of the treaty so harsh. Germany lost half their colonies, land, army. Then the Kaiser."

"And you're blaming France for the abdication." "Who do you blame?"

"I'm veering towards the Kaiser himself. I think the people would've understood more if he signed the Treaty, but negotiated better terms. The hatred for the Weimar Republic sparked from that, but they were only doing what they had to. The back-stab myth might've never come about if the Kaiser was the one signing."

"Yeah, and there was no way he would've, he was way to proud."

"Exactly. His pride was part of the reason, I'd argue in my essay, they lost the war. And then he lost the throne, and the people, and fled the country basically leading them into economic anarchy."

Henry smirked, observing the intense expression in her eyes, and the fact that her hands were tight. "You argue a good point for somebody so completely wrong."

"That's what the question is about. I'm not saying that I 100% agree with that, but I can argue twelve strong points about why. Can you do that for France? No. Even though I can think of a good 16 reasons you could write about."

She finished her sentence smartly, clicking her pen to her cheek for extra emphasis. The smug look on her face spread towards her eyes. A strand of hair fell down her face, obscuring her nose in the process. She brushed it back quickly, still smiling.

"You got a little-" Henry muttered, reaching out to wipe a small ink smudge off Darlene's cheek. She fought to stop the corners of her lips from twitching as he spent far longer than needed just caressing that part of her face, despite the pen mark having faded a good few strokes ago.

"And for the record." He took his had away. "I got 18 points." The smile dropped from her face, and her expression grew stony. "Yeah... Well. I got 20." "I'm pretty sure you said 16." "No, I said 20." She argued defiantly, a streak of competitiveness coming out. "Oh really." He raised his brows, but she nodded, completely unfazed. "Let me see your notes then." "If you can handle my notes."

She picked up the large, 500 page project book off from the desk, adjusting the metal spine as she did so. She quickly scanned the page, checking down for any mistakes but finding none. He made a beckoning gesture with his hand, so she quickly passed it over to him.

The teacher cut the argument short, reminding them that they only had 1 minute of discussion times left. Most of the groups surrounding them had already finished, but those who were still going passed the remaining speaking time over to their partner, allowing them to close their argument. Darlene, on the other hand, stared at Henry as he flipped through her extremely in depth notes. She watched his blue eyes follow every word, noticing his pupils blipping as he read.

At one point, she realised that his pupils stopped skipping over the words and were just staring. They looked straight at one page. He mouthed the word 'what', looking up at her in confusion.

"Are they too much for you? Did I use a big word?" She teased, smiling. "Darlene, who's A?" "What?" "Who's A?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Her brow furrowed, and he could almost see her trying to figure things out in her head.

"Listen, Darl, I think I maybe gave you the wrong idea-" "Give me that." She cut him off, snatching the book and turning around in her seat.

There was a message in the book, and it definitely was not about German history. Nor was it in her handwriting.

_Set up Lola, yeah right. I hope your enjoying your hottie, Darl, because the only person you seem to be setting up is your boyf. Maybe you should tell him your just not that Aust_into _him._

_And if you don't, I will._

_Kisses, Love you_

_-A_

Darlene stared at it, pulse racing.

The only person who knew was Lola. There was no way, no freaking way on earth that anybody else could've written that in her book.

Frankly she didn't even know how Lola had managed it; they had been right in front of each other than whole conversation, and the book hadn't left her side. But Darlene didn't tell just anybody secrets. Lola was the only one who knew.

She struggled to comprehend that her best friend could have done this, and was just about ready to storm out of the class to confront her. Then she realised that Henry had read it, and _oh god, _he thought she liked him.

She hurried her face in her palms, but quickly passed it off as rubbing her eyes. After all, she was still in a classroom.

The clock ticked on the wall reminding her that she had to endure another 15 minutes of not knowing, and not being able to confront anybody. And there was a very real and sudden fear creeping up that Henry, or Lola, would go and tell Austin that she didn't like him.

Which wasn't even true. She did like Austin. He loved her, and she loved him back. It would nothing short of kill her to see him hurting. She just didn't know if it was something romantic anymore.

And somebody wanted to screw it all up for her.

Removing her hand from the page that she was tactfully trying to hide from the teacher, she shot a look down to the message again. There was one line that really got to her. It just made something twitch inside her, and she couldn't stop her brain from rerunning it over and over again. In different voices, somehow managing to get louder, bolder, and even harder to ignore.

Suddenly, Darlene was totally oblivious to her teacher talking about uprisings and rebellions.

_And if you don't, I will._

It wasn't like she didn't deserve it. She looked back down at it, focussing on the next line. _Kisses, Love you._

The only person she knew who said goodbye to her with I love you was Lola. They always had done. Whether they were leaving for weeks of holidays on separate sis of the world, or about to go to a different club at lunch. Love you. They always said Love you.

She picked her hand up to bite her nail, sensing that habit resurfacing. She hadn't been stressed enough to bite them for ages, however even the disgusting taste of 'stop-and- grow' that Lola had plastered over them (to make them long enough to paint) wasn't going to prevent it.

She brought her thumb to her teeth. Immediately, she brought it back. She'd noticed something on the side of her hand. Almost blending in with the tanned, slightly rough skin, was the unmistakable shimmer of Caribbean Kisses.

Darlene flipped the book back open again and squinted at the message. There was no way that she got this on her hand from seeing Lola earlier.

Underneath the message was a string of lipstick kisses, then a lip print. Evidently done deliberately, perfectly matching the stain on her hand. Sure enough, one of the kisses was smudged.

Darlene closed her eyes.

Anybody could've faked the Love you. I wasn't exactly an uncommon phrase, and half the school must've heard them say it to each other.

However nobody could've faked Caribbean Kisses. That lipstick was one of a kind. It was from an old line Aunt Hanna's make up company, one that went hand in hand with her fashion label. Only that particular prototype wasn't used. They adapted it slightly, and brought it out in Winter instead, calling it Peach Snowflake.

Lola had demanded ownership of all the prototypes. There were only a few, and Lola got all of them. There was no place to buy them, and no more had been made since Lola stashed them away in her third drawer on the dressing table in a special box. Last time they did makeovers, only a week ago, there were 13 left.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the bell ringing, sending a harsh, buzzing sensation through her ear.

She whipped round, quickly ready to explain, or at least make up an excuse so that Henry didn't tell Austin. He told her they would be meeting about the volleyball team strategy around 6 today.

Henry was Austin's friend. There was no way in hell that he'd keep it from him.

She scrabbled to get all her things in her bag, but the teacher was approaching her. She looked up, and saw Mrs. Dixons approaching her.

"Darlene, are you feeling okay?" "What? Oh, yeah. Yes, absolutely." She plastered on a fake grin.

"Are you sure, sweetheart. You look pale, and you were really off your A-game that last part of the lesson."

The word A struck a chord, and she watched as the door swung behind her. She was reminded that if she didn't get to Henry in time, her relationship would fall apart.

"I'm fine. I'm fine, thanks, I just got a headache, but I'm good now." She lied fluently. "Can I go?"

Her teacher nodded, walking back to her desk to start marking the work. Darlene stuffed her books into her satchel and clung to her folders, rushing out of the room as quickly as she could, leaving her phone on the desk as she very nearly tripped over a chair.

"Miss. Cavanaugh, your phone." The teacher smiled, upon hearing it vibrate against the wooden desk.

"Oh, I'm sorry." She grabbed it, entering the pass code as she pushed the door open with her leg. She walked down the corridor as quickly as she could. But she halfway there, she stopped, leaning into a radiator as she checked the text. She felt a real headache coming on as her gaze flickered back and forth over the text.

_Tick tock goes the boyfriend clock, Darl. I'd come clean before things get dirty._

Attached was a photo file. Upon opening it, it revealed an old picture of Darlene and Austin. They were in the library together, and had been secretly taking pictures of themselves on her phone, trying to make sure the librarian didn't see them. In the particular image, Austin was wearing Darlene's reading glasses, pulling a face into the lens of her blackberry.

At least, he would've been. If his face hadn't been burned out of the picture.


	2. SofiA, then LolA

"Is anyone in?" A short girl yelled as she walked through the door, tossing her bag on the rack and smoothing out her neat, layered bob. She placed her pixie boots by the shoe wrack and itched the side of her neck where her pendant was rubbing her. Since nobody answered, she figured she must have the house to herself

She walked into the living room, grabbing a soda from the fridge on her way. She smoothed out the crimson throw on the couch and removed several scrunched up pieces of notepaper from the couch, muttering to herself as she did so. After snapping a worn out, splintering paintbrush in two, she dusted herself down and plonked onto the couch. As she reached for one of the books piled on the table, she heard rustling in the corner or the room.

"What the hell Sofia?" She shouted, catching her breath.

In the corner of the room on the rocking chair sat Ruby Fitz's older sister Sofia. She was difficult to notice in the darkest part of the room, huddled up in a large black blanket, and her equally dark fringe mostly covering her heaving made up eyes. Bags hung from the parts you could see, deep, half blue, and implying that she had probably been up all night. Her hair was falling out of her braid, odd twists of lilac highlights catching in the place where the sun now streamed through the window.

She didn't look up. "Sorry if I scared you." She replied slowly, sarcasm dripping from each word.

"Yeah, you damn should be. Hiding in the corner like an axe murderer, I mean, I thought you were breaking in or something." She paused straightening out her cardigan. "It freaked the crap out of me."

Sofia rolled back over in the chair so that she faced the window entirely. "I'm really sorry Ruby." She stated again, blank and emotionless.

"Are you skipping school again?"

Sofia didn't say anything. Instead, she started chipping at the rainbow polish that dusted her bitten nails. The last thing she needed was Ruby tattling to their parents that she hadn't been at school.

It was bad enough that half of Rosewood thought she was some kind of freak. She didn't need her parents weighing in on it too.

"Oh my god you are, aren't you. I hope you know that you cant keep this up. You're going to fail everything if you don't turn up to school, for god's sakes."

"It doesn't matter if you fail everything if you want to be an artist, genius." Sofia dead- panned. "I'd rather stay home and sketch."

"Yeah, and you can't even sketch in sketchbooks like a normal person, can you. No, you just _have _to sketch all over your body, and on the walls, and even in my room because you doodled your crap all over yours."

"It was expressive.""Oh, please. Like you can express anything. All you're doing is messing Mom and Dad around. They don't need you missing school and drawing unicorns and nebulas down your arms. They only want you to go to college, Sofia. And if you miss anymore school to sit throwing your life down a paint pallet, then I'm telling."

She rolled her eyes. A hollow laugh escaped her small frame. "Yeah, because telling tales on me always works."

"I'm trying to help you." Ruby's voice grew patronising. Despite the sincere smile plastered across her, Sofia knew better than to trust her sister. Ruby never had wanted to help her in the past, and she doubted that was about to change now. For her sister, being the favourite was everything, and she wouldn't jeopardise it. Certainly not to help her.

"Sure, you're trying to help me."

She picked up the piles of notepads and drawings in the coffee table. There were several mugs of black coffee balanced on her work, some of them spilling over and staining the charcoal on the pages. She made sure to stuff her crayons down the side of her large sketching book, and clutched it to her chest.

Hopefully, it would hide the fact that she was still wearing the same button up shirt and dirty pink knitted jumper as she was three days ago.

"I'm going out now." Ruby took a slow breath. "Like hell you are." "Yes, I am. I'm not spending anymore time with my kid sister acting like my Mom."

She slipped out of the rocking chair, leaving the blanket abandoned on the floor. She ignored Ruby's continuing torrent of complaints. On the back of the downstairs cupboard was her bag, a tatty old over-the-body thing she'd owned for years, covered in embroidery and dirt. It wasn't like she was short of sleek, designer handbags in her closet upstairs. But she didn't want them. Not only did they feel completely alien sat on her paint stained shoulders, but it also felt like she was lying to everyone.

Sofia wasn't embarrassed of who she was.

Rosewood was the most judgemental town to exist, she was sure of it. It was the sort of place that wanted you to fit in, to conform. Conforming hadn't ever been her priority.

She wasn't remotely interested in wearing perfect, well balanced and natural make up. Se didn't care that her clothes didn't match, her shoes were too big and her hair was half purple. It didn't _matter _that people stopped and looked at the patterns she inked on her hands, or that everyone thought she was a some kind of monster because she flunked class and graffitied on her coffee cups at the brew.

She knew that it didn't make her happy to sit in a group of giggling girls and pretend she cared about cute shoes and getting a beach body. It made her feel like herself to have thick eyebrows, too much eye-make up and glittery lipstick.

She wasn't hurting anybody.

And one thing that she did know was that _art _made her happy. Being able to create something truly incredible on a the back of an old newspaper... with only a biro and your own imagination.

She loved _colour_. She loved to learn new techniques for oils and waxes. There wasn't any doubt in her mind that art was her passion. No amount of partaking in clubs she hated, so that she could get into an overly-expensive college would replace that passion.

The door was long slammed behind her, and she nearly reached The Brew in town. It was one of her least favourite places to draw; she always got weird glances and laughs whenever she produced her pencil case and paper. But if Ruby stuck to her words and started telling her Mom that she was 'going off the rails', then it wouldn't help her case to be found in one of her preferred drawing spots.

In the woods. In the attic. Down the back of the church doors just in the cellar porch. Perched in the back of a crane lift in Uncle Toby's construction site, the one that never got used except for Wednesdays.

When she was in her places, her own, private little spots that only she knew about, it made her art so much better. She wasn't thinking about her family or the toxic town she lived in. Nothing other than the nib of her pen mattered. She could close her eyes and let her fingers smudge pastels into comets. Picturing what she wanted in her head and letting the idea flow onto the page like paint itself. Art for Sofia was fluid.

It could also be rigid, though. If she wanted it to. In fact, it could be absolutely anything and everything she wanted it to.

She payed the cashier for her salted cappuccino and sat down on one of the bars tools by the window. After the interruption earlier, she didn't much feel like any painting, which was what she had been doing. Instead, she delved into the back pocket of the bag and searched for the crumpled up pieces of notepaper she liked to doodle on.

These were special. She liked to keep some of them hidden in boxes and purses so that nobody would see them before they were perfect. If at all, considering the lack of interest her family seemed to have in her art. And she didn't have friends.

She would readily admit that she didn't have friends.

In her own way, those sketches were her friends. They were the specific designs that were completely unique to her. She wasn't copying a flower, or a hand, or printing patterns with chalks. They were her own. All those particular drawings, she was hoping to get tattooed onto her once she had perfected them. She already had one tattoo: a constellation made up of her favourite quotes. It lived on the bottom of her left foot, and nobody saw it.

This time, though, she was hoping to graduate to an ink on her hip. She thought that if she was progressive with the locations of her tattoos, then her parents would be less likely to notice. Besides, she already was covered in drawings, most of which she went over in sharpie every morning. It was unlikely that they'd realise that some really were permanent. And if they did, they couldn't do anything.

She shut her eyes and took a long sip of her coffee, savouring the contrast of bitterness and soft foam. She flattened out one of the pieces of paper, letting her thumb trace the wrinkles and search for the indentations made by her pencil.

This design was one of her favourites. It was a dragon, but a dragon made of roses. The petals were like flames, and the heart of the dragon were thorns. She hoped she'd have it perfect by the end of the week, ready to transfer to her body. It was so intricate, yet the style in which she'd drawn it was so simple.

The mug clinked on the side of the table. Sofia opened her eyes, and turned over the paper, ready to make some adjustments to her dragon.

Only it wasn't there.

In place of her project sat a large letter A. Bright red. Just like the warning signs going off in Sofia's head.

_Crazy is the only thing that's permanent here._

She stared at it for as long as she could manage.

It wasn't the jibe that bothered her. It was the fact that somebody had been through her things.

And somebody had her dragon. A drawing she liked so much that she wanted it on her body forever.

Her hands trembled as she clutched her mug. It had a chip in it, and the pressure was boring into her knuckles. She stared at the red letter A, allowing the colour to fill her up, until it was all she could see and all she could think.

* * *

Lola was leaning back against the side of the kitchen counter, scrolling through her Facebook feed mindlessly. She was barely even aware of her surroundings since she had a pair of pink and white headphones pumping music into her ears. She'd have happily stayed there for hours, if somebody hadn't unplugged them from her phone.

Se turned around indignantly, suspecting one of her younger brothers. But instead, stood Logan Kahn, smirking smugly down at her.

"Logan, what are you doing in my kitchen."

He shrugged, smiling and twirling the wire attached to the headphones around is thumb.

"Your brother let me in."

"Yeah, but that doesn't answer why you're here." She raised an eyebrow, pursing her perfectly tinted lips together impatiently.

"Can't a guy hang out with the hottest girl in Rosewood without being asked questions?" He placed the wire down on the table, and looked Lola straight in the eye. Damn, she

hated that she was half smiling. She liked to think that she was immune to Logan's flirtations, but sadly, it looked like she wasn't.

She wasn't dumb enough to get involved with him. Everyone knew he was notoriously promiscuous; he'd been with half the cheer squad and any pretty girl who smiled at him at a party. Usually one of his parties. His whole family seemed to be famous for the parties held at their cabin. For some girls, getting an invite was like being handed a golden ticket. Lola wasn't phased by him, though. She'd dated some of his friends, and knew that he couldn't be trusted to stay interested in one person.

He liked the chase, and then he'd get tired once he'd run it. And wasn't going to let him cross the finish line with her. He could chase all he wanted, but he wouldn't get near her.

"So, if I'm the hottest girl in Rosewood, why haven't I heard about it before?" She asked coyly.

"Because the hottest girl in Rosewood doesn't need to be told." "Mmm?"

"I love your eyes." He murmured. His hand threatened to creep upwards from its position on her knee, so she quickly got up and walked over to the fridge to get them soda. She was not falling for crap like that.

"Yeah. Well, admire them from here." She rifled through the cans at the back of the ice tray. "Looks like cola or cola."

"I'd like a Lola." He suggested. She rolled her eyes, throwing it across the room and kind of hoping it would hit him. He really deserved the amount of girls who ended up slapping him in public.

"What do you want, Logan?" "You to come to my Halloween party. It's invite only."

"Oh, please. Half this town turns up to that party. You only have to be a breathing human to get an invite, it's the biggest thing in the whole town."

"I'm making it more exclusive." "I bet you are." She sighed under her breath. "Look, are you coming." "Yeah, I guess. I'm bringing Darl, though." "Gnarlene? That girl is gnarly, Lola." "Yeah, and she's also my best friend in the world."

"She's a giant douche. All she does is correct my grammar and glare at me like I'm scum on the sidewalk. She totally bums out every party she's at. I'd have to be mad drunk to even be in the same room as her without wanting to shoot myself in the eye."

Lola sat back down, sipping coke from the purple swirly straw she had found in the cutlery draw. The bubbles fizzed against the top of her mouth, until the liquid was flat and dull tasting. She swallowed it, and checked her phone again. Logan Kahn did not deserve her interest.

"You'd better get drinking, if that's the case. I'm not coming without Darlene."

"Ugh. You know what, fine. Fine. Anything for you." She groaned at that. "Just tell her to wear a ton of makeup. She'd be kind of hot if she actually wore any to school."

"Aw, I'm sure she'll be so glad to receive such a kind compliment from you. She muttered, toneless. She grabbed her purse from the counter and picked up her can, tossing the straw down onto the side. He looked confused, but she smiled sweetly.

"I'm going. Please see yourself out, unless you plan to spend the day teaching my brothers how to be misogynists."

"Wait, but- You are coming, right?" She shrugged. "Text me the details. I'll see how I feel."

He seemed to accept this answer, and left, making sure to accidentally reach up to get his coat from where he had slung it on the banister when he came in. As he did this, he revealed a smooth set of abs. This in itself made her want to groan again, but she contained it. He actually looked like a model. His honey coloured skin was the perfect level of tanned, and his face could easily be advertising aftershave on billboards. She'd never tell him that. Enough of his tweenage fanclub probably told him it daily.

Honestly, if it weren't for his horrendous personality, she probably would go out with him. But there was no way she was going to let herself get burned my somebody like him. He wasn't worth the effort, and he certainly didn't deserve her.

She _was _going to go to his party, though. _Everyone _went to his party, even complete nerds. There were very few people she knew that didn't, and there wasn't much reason. It was loud, vibrant and awesome. Some of the best nights ever had taken place at one of the cabin parties, Halloween in particular. However, she wasn't letting on that she was eager. He shouldn't get that kind of satisfaction.

She leaned down to check her reflection in the phone, and noticed two texts. One was from Darlene. It was short, and read plainly.

_We need to talk. Meet me at the brew. Right now._

She was about to muse what it could mean, but she felt compelled to check the other text. Of course, the message was from Logan, and it was link. She opened it, and found a picture of her smiling, grabbing a coke from the fridge. Her legs looked particularly long from the angle he'd taken it, and it was captioned with _hanging out with this beauty._

Underneath was a love heart and kiss emoticon. Unfortunately, it already had about 32 likes. After all, he'd tagged her. And the two of them combined probably had the most followers out of anybody in the school. Some of the comments talked about them being a cute couple, and others saying that they should 'totally date'. There were a fair few commenting on how hot she was, which she tastefully chose to ignore.

One was a little different from the others. It was all in italic bold, and a different font. She didn't even know you could do that on Instagram. She enlarged it so she could read it.

_Lola might be pretty, but her dating history is ugly. Kisses, -A_

She pressed the lock button on her phone and stepped out of the door. Adjusting the clip in her hair and planting on a fresh smile, she set off to the brew. Hopefully later, Logan would agree to take the picture down.

This A was probably just Alyssa Grand, a jealous redhead on the cheer squad. She fancied Logan like crazy, plus some of the guys who like Lola. If her memory served her correctly, Alyssa once got her twitter page taken down for spamming. It would make sense.

Her phone vibrated again, and she assumed it must be from Logan. Probably with another link to a photo, or some cheesy chat up line. She'd have happily ignored it, only it buzzed again, and she felt somehow obliged to check. Maybe it was Darlene.

It wasn't. It was a photo of her.

And she was kissing someone. Someone she definitely wasn't supposed to. She snapped the cover over her phone quickly, having deleted the text the second she saw what it was. She turned around, praying that nobody had seen over her shoulder.

Luckily, it was clear. Because if anyone saw that photo, it was likely half of the people commenting on how pretty she was wouldn't look her in the eye again.


End file.
